


Come What May

by astrogypsycat



Category: Moulin Rouge! (2001), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Acting, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M, Musical, crossover - moulin rouge/BBC Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 21:12:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrogypsycat/pseuds/astrogypsycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank-you for reading! I hope you enjoyed my first chapter of Come What May. Leave comments, bookmark, like- whatever you want my darlings! :D Also, any Beta readers out there?! I need some help! Comment if you are interested!!</p></blockquote>





	Come What May

A crisp brand new typewriter and a few suitcases were all he needed. He smiled to other passengers as he exited the train. The world had been swept up in the Bohemian Revolution. 1899, Montmartre, Paris! Not as his father described it. _"A VILLAGE OF SIN!"_ But the heart of the Bohemian world! Arising English Writers, dancers, actors/actresses, painters! They were known as the children of the revolution.

Truth, beauty, freedom, and love! Yes, he had come to Paris, Montmartre to live a penniless life and write about all of the above, especially the magnificent love!

There was only one problem... He'd never been in love.

Luckily, right at that moment, an unconscious Argentinean man fell through his ceiling. He was quickly joined by a dwarf dressed as a nun.

"HOW DO YOU DO!!" The dwarf said as he spun a small cane. "My name is Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec-Montfa." The nun started making his way towards the unconscious Argentinean man. "I'm terribly sorry. We were upstairs rehearsing a play."

"What?!" John asked, shocked and confused.

A play! Very modern, called: Spectacular Spectacular! “And it's set in Switzerland."

Unfortunately, the Argentinean suffered from a sickness called narcolepsy. "Perfectly fine one moment then suddenly, unconscious the next! Ha-ha!" Toulouse went on merrily.

The Argentinean swung back and forth on a cable hanging from the ceiling, by his ankle. A man dressed as a woman (or so John assumed) peered through the hole above. "How is he?!" She asked, irked.

John looked up to see two other strange men beside her as she spoke.

"Oh, wonderful. The narcoleptic Argentinean is unconscious." She said, sarcastically. "And therefore the scenario will not be finished to present to the financier tomorrow."

The Argentinean fell onto the ground as the cable snapped. He remained unaffected and still very unconscious. Toulouse and John continued looking up at them through the hole as the man to the his/her's right started speaking in a nervous voice. "And Toulouse, I still have to finish the music."

"We just find someone to read the part." Toulouse said dismissively.

"Where in heaven's name are we going to find someone to read the lead role of a young, sensitive Swiss poet goat herder?" He/she asked in an angry tone.

Before John knew it, he was upstairs, standing in for the unconscious Argentinean. John had learned the name of the he/she. Her name was Audrey and the bald man's name was Satie. He stood on a flimsily built mountain. It was made of would and painted beautifully.

He stood on a ladder Satie played the piano dramatically and a spinning thing sparked loudly as Toulouse sang a small verse horrendously.

"THE HILLS ANIMATE!! WITH THE EUPHONIOUS SYMPHONIES OF DESCANT!!"

"OH STOP!! Stop- stop- stop that insufferable droning is drowning out my lyrics. Could we stick maybe a little decorative piano?" Audrey asked Satie.

There seemed to be artistic differences between Audrey's lyrics and Satie's song.

"I don't think a nun would sing about a hill." Said the old man.

"What if he sings, 'The hills are vital intoning the descent'?" Asked Satie.

And suddenly, everyone was talking at once, throwing out suggestions.

The Argentinean jumped up from the bed that John had been forced to move him to, and yelled excitedly. "THE HILLS ARE INCARNATE WITH SYMPHONIC MELODIES!!"

Everyone stared at him then the Argentinean fell back onto the bed, unconscious again.

"No- no- no." They said and continued suggesting things and John tried to put his opinion in and they weren't listening so he sung it. Well, belted it.

"THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC!!"

Everyone went silent and stared at John in awe and suddenly the Argentinean jumped up violently and looked at John with almost an angry expression. He started stomping towards everyone.

"'The hills are alive with the sound of music.' I LOVE IT!" He said through clenched teeth.

Everyone repeated the song quietly, thinking.

"It fits perfectly." Satie said.

"With songs they have sung, for a thousand years!" John sung once more, with a smile as he climbed down the ladder a bit towards Satie. Everyone, but Audrey, gasped and cheered.

"Incandiferous!" Said Toulouse in amazement. He looked at Audrey. "You should write the show together." He said with a smile.

"I beg your pardon?" Audrey asked, angrily.

But Toulouse's suggestion that Audrey and John write together was not what Audrey wanted to hear. "Good-bye!!" Audrey sung even more angrily as she slammed the door behind her and left.

"Here's to your first job in Paris." Toulouse said as he raised a glass with a green liquid in it.

"Toulouse, Zidler will never agree." Satie said to Toulouse then looked at John who was still on the ladder. "No offense, but have you written anything like this?" He asked.

"No." John said.

"AHHH!!" The Argentinean said with a smile. "The boy has talent!" He did a small jump and threw his arms out which...accidentally...palmed John's cock through his pants. "I like him!" John gasped and the Argentinean pulled his hand away. "Nothing funny..." He laughed nervously. "I just like talent."

They raised an eyebrow then huddled up and Toulouse was still smiling as he put a hand on Satie's shoulder. "'The hills are alive with the sound of music.' See Satie, with John we can write the truly Bohemian revolutionary show we always dreamt of!"

"How will we convince Zidler?" Satie asked.

But Toulouse had a plan. "Sherlock." He smiled.

They would dress John up in the Argentinean's best suit and pass me off as a famous English Writer. Once Sherlock had John's modern poetry, he'd be astounded and insist to Zidler that he write Spectacular Spectacular. The only problem was: John kept hearing his father's voice in his head: _"You'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge with a cancan dancer!"_

"I can't write the show for the Moulin Rouge!" John said in a rush as he headed towards the ladder that led to his room from the hole in the ceiling.

They followed him. "Why not?!" Toulouse asked.

"I don't even know if I am a true Bohemian Revolutionary." He said.

They gasped. "Do you believe in beauty?" Asked Toulouse.

"Yes." John replied.

"Freedom?!" The Argentinean patted his chest dramatically.

"Yes, of course."

"Truth?" Satie asked.

"Yes."

"Love?" The old man asked.

"Love? Love... Above all things, I believe in love. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many-splendored thing. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love!" John smiled.

"See, you can't fool us. You're the voice of the Children of the Revolution!" Toulouse laughed merrily. "Let's drink to the new writer of the world's first bohemian revolutionary show!"

It was the perfect plan. He was to audition for Sherlock and he would taste his first glass of...Absinthe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you for reading! I hope you enjoyed my first chapter of Come What May. Leave comments, bookmark, like- whatever you want my darlings! :D Also, any Beta readers out there?! I need some help! Comment if you are interested!!


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